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Authors: Tracie Peterson

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BOOK: The Coming Storm
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Koko started to reply, but the sound of a horse approaching silenced all three women. Dianne went to the door and peered out. To her surprise, the rider was none other than her brother Zane.

“What’s Zane doing here?” she questioned. “I thought the army was off on some big campaign to the east. Didn’t Morgan say something about that?”

“He did,” Faith replied, “but maybe they returned early.”

Dianne stepped out onto the porch as her brother dismounted. Koko went to tend to Susannah, who had just started crying.

“You’re a sight, to be sure,” Dianne greeted. “Looks like you’ve been on the trail for a month of Sundays.”

Zane met her expression and frowned. “Afternoon, Dianne. I’ve come to talk to Uncle Bram. Is he around?”

Dianne’s enthusiasm faded. Zane’s tone suggested something was very wrong. “Are you all right?”

“I just need to talk to Bram.”

“He’s in the horse barn. Why don’t you go ahead and visit with him and I’ll prepare you a plate of food. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Zane seemed hesitant, then nodded. “I’m starved.”

Dianne smiled. “Then go have your talk and afterward wash up and come eat.” She wanted to say something more, but Zane made it clear he wasn’t interested in talking. As he led the horse away and headed to the barn, Dianne could only contemplate what might be wrong. Maybe the Indians were attacking nearby. Maybe some hideous disaster had struck the town of Bozeman.

Dianne remained outside, watching her brother. There was something odd going on. He was disheveled and not up to the standards of a soldier. And while she’d never been very close to the twins or understood their way of thinking, it was clear that Zane was troubled. Perhaps life in the army was more difficult than he’d anticipated, or maybe he’d had some sort of ruckus with his commanding officer.

“He’s not wearing his uniform!” Dianne exclaimed as the realization struck her. Had he resigned from the army? Something had happened, and she intended to know what it was.

Following after Zane, Dianne eased in through the open side door of the barn.

“I didn’t think we’d be seeing you anytime soon,” Bram declared in greeting.

Dianne eased alongside the corner stall and listened for a moment. She didn’t think it proper to eavesdrop, but something told her to hold back—to wait.

“I’ve deserted,” Zane said without further explanation.

Dianne put her hand to her mouth to keep from gasping aloud. Deserted? Why in the world would he do that? Weren’t men shot for such things? Zane was such a man of honor, and since coming west, he’d wanted nothing but to join the army. Why would he desert?

“Why don’t you tell me what happened,” Bram said softly. “It’s so awful—the worst thing I’ve ever seen or been a part of,” Zane began. “We were up on the Marias going after a group of Blackfoot who had murdered some whites nearby. Our major was adamant that we catch and kill these men. He cared nothing about bringing them back for a trial or hearing their side of it. That bothered me enough, but when we came upon the wrong group of Pikuni and Major Baker insisted we attack anyway . . . well . . .” His words trailed off.

Dianne felt a deep sorrow for her brother. He sounded absolutely heartbroken. She knew he would never tolerate innocent lives being slain. No wonder he’d deserted.

“It was Heavy Runner’s village,” Zane began again. “I feared maybe Takes Many Horses would be there, but most of the warriors were gone on the hunt.”

“They came to visit us just before the baby was born in January,” Bram told him. “They were heading south, as the buffalo were scarce in these parts.”

“Most of Heavy Runner’s band were old people, women, and children. Not only that, but they had smallpox. Baker still didn’t care. He turned the troops loose to kill and plunder. He wasn’t content just slaughtering innocent lives. He destroyed everything they had, then left more than a hundred people out in the snow in forty-below temperatures. Some weren’t even properly dressed—hardly any had buffalo robes to keep them warm.”

“I’m sorry, Zane. I know that must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t just that.”

Dianne could hear the exasperation in her brother’s voice. She longed to go to him, to offer him comfort, but she remained frozen in place, desperate to hear every detail.

The sound of something slamming against the wall caused Dianne to jump.

“I’m sorry,” Zane apologized, “it’s just that even remembering it makes me so angry.”

“It’s all right, son. You’re among family and friends here. You can take your time and just tell me what you need to.”

“What I need, I can’t find. I need absolution for what I did— and for what I didn’t do.”

“And what’s that?”

“I didn’t try to stop them,” Zane said, his voice breaking. “I knew it was wrong. I even refused to shoot anyone. I headed women and children to the river for safety, but I didn’t try to stop the attack.”

“What could you have done? You weren’t in charge.”

“Maybe not, but I could have protested the attack. I could have confronted the major.”

“And would he have listened?” Bram asked.

“No . . . probably not. The man was mostly likely well into his cups. Several men said he was drinking before the attack.”

“A drunkard is not easily reasoned with. Especially one who has no standard of justice.”

“I don’t know what to do, Uncle Bram. I’ve been gone since that night. That was over two months ago. My conscience is eating me up. I feel like I should go back to the fort and face my punishment for desertion, but at the same time, I don’t wanna go.”

“Have you prayed about this?”

“Yes, sir. That’s why I’m compelled to go back. I gave my word to the army, and I know it’s only right that I turn myself in.”

Dianne bit her lip as tears came to her eyes. Her brother sounded like such a broken man. She was thankful he’d come to their uncle for counsel.

“I just keep seeing their faces,” Zane said, picking up the memory again. “I see the women shielding their children and the bullets ripping through their flesh as though they were made of nothing more substantial than cobwebs. I can hear the children crying and the women screaming. It’s driving me mad.” He began to sob.

Dianne wanted to run away. Her brother’s cries pierced her heart. How could anyone be so cruel as to wage war on children— defenseless children?

“Son, things like this have been a part of human life since the beginning of time. Man is sinful and selfish. His motives are not always pure. Still, you couldn’t have stopped this from happening. You did the best you could.”

“I don’t feel like I did my best. I know God must be disappointed in me. Can He forgive me, Uncle Bram? Can God forgive me for being part of such a hideous thing and then running away?”

“Of course He can, but that doesn’t mean the memories will go away. It was no accident that you were present in that situation. I don’t believe things happen by chance. You were a witness to this atrocity for a reason. I’m not sure what that reason could be, but it’s important that you learn from this.”

Dianne heard Zane sniffing and decided to slip away while the two men figured out what was to be done. She prayed all the way back to the house that God might ease Zane’s grief and give him peace.

Faith didn’t question her when she came into the kitchen. For this, Dianne was grateful. She went to work immediately, putting away the canning jars she’d been tending to earlier in the day. When Zane and Bram came in nearly half an hour later, neither one seemed upset or out of sorts. Bram, in fact, was chuckling about some antic of Jamie’s, telling Zane how his son would make a first-rate horseman someday.

Dianne helped Faith serve Zane his meal, then sat down to join her brother. “What have you . . . uh . . . been . . . I mean where have you . . . been? It’s been quite a while since we . . . saw you,” she began tentatively.

“I know. Looks like the ranch has changed quite a bit. How are you?” Zane asked, then focused his attention on the food.

“I’ve been good. And you?” Dianne asked nonchalantly. Zane shrugged. “Guess I could be better.”

“What causes you to say that?” she asked, hoping he’d confide his ordeal to her.

He shook his head. “It’s not important. Guess you must be just about busting a button waiting for Cole to get back. Uncle Bram told me he’s due before long.”

Dianne knew her opportunity to hear the truth from him had passed. “I am anxious for Cole’s return. Should be soon— about three months, I figure.”

“Will you two marry right away?”

“That’s the plan,” she replied.

“If they’ll wait until fall, we might even have the new house built,” Bram declared as he brought a cup of coffee to the table and joined the conversation. “I figure we’ll have a big enough front room that you could have the wedding there if you wanted.”

“I’d hate to wait that long,” Dianne said. “It’s already been long enough.”

“It was honorable of him to stay and help his pa,” Bram said after a long sip of coffee. “You’ve got a good man there, Dianne. No need to rush it. He’ll keep his word and do what he’s got to do, and in turn that will make him a better person.”

Dianne looked up and nodded, but when she met her uncle’s gaze, she froze. He held her eyes, speaking to her in the silence of the moment. He knew. He knew she’d overheard the conversation in the barn. Dianne wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. There was something in his look that made it clear she should say nothing, however.

She nodded just slightly—just enough to let him know she understood.

Bram smiled. “Well, maybe Zane will be able to get leave in the fall to come celebrate the festivities. Summer’s not the best time for getting away from the army, you know.”

Dianne nodded. “Maybe we will wait until fall. If it helps you, Zane.”

He shrugged again. “Not sure what will help me.”

Koko emerged from the bedroom with Susannah all bound up in a cradleboard. The baby seemed to love being wrapped up securely. “Welcome back, Zane. It’s so good to see you,” Koko said as she approached Zane. “You haven’t met your new cousin. This is Susannah. We named her after your mother.”

He looked up to Koko and paled. It didn’t immediately register in Dianne’s mind what was wrong, but when she took a good look at her aunt, it became clear. The woman was dressed in native fashion, wearing a long deerskin dress, her hair bound in two braids. Added to that, baby Susannah definitely looked the part of a Pikuni infant in her bindings. Dianne cringed.

Zane swallowed hard and looked away. “She’s pretty,” he said, seeming to gasp for air. He looked to Bram and got to his feet. “I need to be on my way.” He glanced back at Dianne, who by now had stood as well.

“Zane, are you all right?”

He met Dianne’s gaze and nodded. “I’m fine. I have to get back to the fort.”

Dianne stood at the corral fence later that evening. The sun had set and the last hints of light were fading in the west. Concern for Zane plagued her thoughts.

“I thought I might find you out here,” Bram said as he came up from behind her.

Dianne turned at the sound of his voice. She didn’t even bother to try to hide what she knew. She desperately needed to talk to someone. “Why, Uncle Bram? Why did that attack have to take place? Why did Zane have to be a part of that?”

Bram put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. “It’s always the
why
s that give us fits. I don’t have answers for you, darlin’. Men are men, and they will make their war. Sometimes the war seems just and honorable, but more times than not it’s simply a matter of one side wanting something the other side has. In the case of the Indian wars . . . well, the whites want the land. Settlers are restless to move west. I’ve heard talk of wagon trains that stretch out for miles on end—you’ve said before that your own wagon train was hundreds of wagons long.”

“Yes, it was. And when you watched it move across the open plains, it was a sight to behold,” Dianne remembered.

“Imagine being the Sioux or the Blackfoot and seeing that. Seeing their way of life suddenly intruded upon. I’m guilty of doing just that myself. Like most, I saw what I wanted and took it—no matter the cost to others.” He grew thoughtful. “Times are changing and bad times are coming. Probably more wars, more death. The tribes won’t just give up their land, and I can’t blame them. Look around you—it’s beautiful, vital, and full of everything a person needs to live. Why would you give that up without a fight?”

“I guess I wouldn’t,” Dianne said, realizing how very much she loved this land. “Will Zane be all right?”

“He’s seen bad things, Dianne. It won’t be easy, and I won’t lie to you or him and say that it will. But we all have to live with bad things—ugly things. Life isn’t always the beauty you see here . . . as well you know.”

“I wanted to help him.”

Bram shook his head. “You can’t. He has to make these decisions for himself. He’s made a good choice. He’s going back to face his superiors. Whatever happens, his conscience will be clear.”

“Do you think he’ll quit the army?”

They began walking back to the house. “I can’t say. I kind of doubt it. Zane knows that as bad as things were, the army needs good men to balance those who lead such massacres. Someday, Zane may well be the one upon whose shoulders it falls to lead such an attack. Maybe he’ll make a stand and maybe another destructive act will be avoided. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get involved in the politics of the country and get laws changed so that Koko and the children won’t have to live in fear of being rounded up and put on reservations.”

BOOK: The Coming Storm
9.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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